Immigrate
by EllaNight
Summary: "He itched to write but he'd yet to find the right story, the right character to kick start the engine again. Until she entered his class." AU based on the episode "And Justice For All" (8x13)
**A/N: For my best friend Chelsea who prompted this. I wish I could have given her a longer fic but this is all I had time for. I hope you all like it.**

 **This is an AU based on the episode And Justice For All (8x13)**

* * *

When he took this job he'd been at an all-time low. So, maybe not all-time, but definitely at his lowest point since he'd started publishing novels. He hadn't published anything in five years. In fact he hadn't opened a word document only to be mocked by the cursor in over two. After he'd killed off Derick, his best work, his prized character, he'd been unable to muster the drive to write, unable to conjure the right words for anything.

This job had been a last resort. His daughter had been nagging him, insisting he needed to get out of the loft, do something other than lounging around in his underwear or moping about the turn his life had taken. An old friend had mentioned he could get him a job teaching English to immigrants and he'd accepted it because he knew it would make Alexis smile, a rare sight when he was around these days.

But he'd been surprised. Pleasantly surprised to find that he liked teaching, he liked his students. They ranged from all ages, from kids to the elderly, all with the intent of properly integrating the country he had the chance to call home. He found them interesting, found that he liked learning about them and their backgrounds. He liked their stories. It was a new yet familiar feeling and he was so glad to find it taking hold of him again. He itched to write but he'd yet to find the right story, the right character to kick start the engine again.

Until she entered his class. He'd laid eyes on her and he knew he wanted to tell her story. She was mysterious but more than that she had a determination to learn that struck him. She was good with words even though Russian is nowhere near Latin based. She was quiet and reserved, never talked much during class but sometimes asked the most precise of questions about verb tense, sentence structure or pronunciation.

She was beautiful, long chestnut hair and green eyes with specks of gold that held a certain tenacity. But something frightened her. She was running from something, and she most definitely wanted to win the race. She was haunted. The first time she'd approached him after class, he'd learned her name.

"I have question for you," she'd said as she approached his desk after the rest of his students had left the class. She rolled her R's in that typically Russian way and he couldn't stifle the thought that he'd like to hear her voice in the context of his bedroom. Focus, Rick. So not the time.

"Ask away, Miss…" He trailed off in an inquisitive tone inviting her to fill in the blank.

"Beckett. Kate Beckett," she told him, tucking a strand of that long hair behind her ear.

He had no right to find his heart stuttering at the mention of her name, no right to want to ask her a million questions before she could even ask hers.

"Alright Kate, what did you have to ask?"

She opened her mouth and wet her lips, concentration evident in her features, trying to get the right words out. "The test you gave back. There is question I don't understand."

"Sure, we can go over it if you'd like," he'd told her with a gentle smile. She never spoke in class and he was desperate to know more about her. The last thing Rick wanted was to scare her away.

They went over the test, every question, even the one's she got right but where she wanted to make sure she understood the rule correctly. He didn't think he'd ever seen someone so determined to learn English. So that was the comment he settled on when she was preparing to leave his office.

"You're doing a great job in this class, Kate. I have no doubts you'll be mastering English in no time," he told her encouragingly.

"I have to . No choice. I must speak English perfect."

"You can call me Rick. And it's perfectly," he said with a warm smile. "I'm not worried you'll get there."

"You don't understand. Everything depends…" She closed her eyes in frustration. Her eyebrows pinched together and her eyes closed tight.

Rick wanted nothing more than to pull her in his arms and to comfort her. It was the oddest sensation. He knew nothing of this woman except that she had enchanting eyes and a story to tell. And that she was desperate to become fluent in English. He could help with that.

"Kate, I have no idea what you've been through but, if you're willing we could meet outside of class," he offered. He saw her eyes widen and he was quick to backpedal. "For private sessions, to help with your English if you need it to be perfect. And if you don't want me as your teacher I would understand too. I could find someone else to help you if that's what you'd like."

He has no idea what spurred him to offer all these things and he didn't even have another teacher in mind. But he'd find a way. Somehow he knew that for this woman he'd find a way to pull some strings and get her the help she needed. He saw her look up at him from where her eyes had landed on the floor. A hint of a smile was pulling at the corners of her mouth. He felt his heart stutter.

"Thank you . I would appreciate," she told him shyly. "Maybe we meet here Tuesday after noon?"

"That would work fine for me. Say around two o'clock." Whatever plans he'd had for Tuesday, they would be rescheduled. He wanted to help this woman.

"Okay," she said as she picked up her rucksack and headed for the door. She turned back to him as she was about to cross the threshold, "Tuesday, two o'clock."

He wrote ten pages that night.

* * *

They met every Tuesday after that and soon they added Thursday's and Saturday's on top of Sunday's course with the rest of the class. Kate was an extraordinary student. She was becoming more than that. He soon found out that behind her reserved shell, she was witty and smart, calculated and controlled. He loved that she sometimes cursed in Russian when she failed to come up with the word she was looking for in English but he would laugh and was glad when he could get her to smile.

After about a month she'd almost completely lost her accent. By that time he almost had a complete manuscript. It was far from ready, but it was _something_. He didn't know if it was because she made the words come back but he found himself getting attached to her, wanting to see her on the odd days they didn't meet to practice her English.

One Thursday he'd asked her out. He'd planned to maybe bring up his book and get her to answer few questions for him. It hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. She'd packed her bag and was about to leave when he grabbed her hand.

"Kate," he saw her eyes widen, much as they had the first time she thought he'd been coming on to her. "I was wondering if you'd like to meet me tomorrow."

"Can you not make it Saturday?" She asked.

"Actually I was thinking maybe we could go for coffee to celebrate all the progress you've been making. Your accent is nearly gone and your sentence structure is nearly flawless." He saw her blush, not a common occurrence, even when he corrected her on rare occasions, she only took it in stride and repeated the phrase like he told her to. Her head was down towards the ground now, her brows knit together, her eyes glassy.

"I can't. Rick, you don't know me. Not enough to get involved with me, trust me."

He thought he'd had a chance. The way she'd smile at him when he'd bring up the silliest conversation topics and the way he'd laugh when she'd shamelessly call him out on it. The way she looked at him whenever he mentioned Alexis. They worked together. They could talk for hours. Their conversations didn't usually get personal but he wanted them to. He wanted to know about her. Every time he'd tried she's divert the question or subtly change the subject. It didn't go unnoticed but he didn't push, too afraid to scare her off.

"Kate, I know you. It doesn't have to mean anything more than you want it to. I'd just really like to spend some more time with you." He went for honesty.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

Apparently honesty was the right move.

She took his words with her that night.

* * *

She hadn't shown up on Saturday and he'd been worried. He'd wanted to call her but didn't want to over step. When she didn't show on Sunday to the regular class he knew something was up. And to be honest he couldn't stand the silence any longer. They had exchanged phone numbers in case one of them had to cancel last minute but he'd never used it.

His calls went unanswered and with them he felt a piece of him melt away.

* * *

Rick cared about her. He knew that. He cared about her way too much. He showed up to their scheduled meetings for the rest of the week but never did she. He'd overstepped and now he'd miss out on something he thought could be great.

As he'd sat in front of his computer facing a blank document, he'd contemplated whether it would be a mistake to call her again at this hour but his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock. He opened the door and found her on the other side.

"Kate?"

Her eyes were wide with worry, roaming over him as soon as he opened the door and she seemed to hesitate but in seconds she was wrapping her arms around his torso and burying her nose in his neck. He hugged her to him, pulling her closer, not knowing what else to do. His heart was stammering in his chest and all he could register was how well she fit against him, how wonderful she smelled. Something like cherries. He could feel her sharp intakes of breath and her tears soaked through the material of his dress shirt. He gently took her shoulders and pushed her back slightly so he could look at her.

"Kate what's wrong? What happened?"

"They found me. Even here they found me and I was so scared they would get to you," she told him, a sob escaping her throat.

"Who found you, Kate? Are you in danger?" He knew he sounded alarmed and the last thing he wanted was to frighten her more than whatever had her in this state. He pressed his palm to her back and gently pulled her into the loft, closing the door behind her and locking it.

She hadn't answered his questions but he would wait her out, give her time to catch her breath, gather her thoughts. He guided her towards the couch and motioned for her to sit. Kneeling down beside her as she sat he looked her in the eyes.

"Your safe here, Kate. I'll get you some water," he told her as he made his way towards the kitchen.

His palms were sweaty, his heart hammering in his chest. Whatever she was mixed up with he didn't care as long as she was safe. He knew that might be reckless. Scratch that, it was definitely reckless. He didn't give a damn right now.

He filled up a glass of water and brought it back to her. Kate accepted the glass and gave him a smile. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile again. He sat down next to her on the couch but left a considerable amount of space between them. She had come to him for safety but he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. He wasn't losing her. Not now.

"Kate, whatever you need, I'm here. I have a guestroom upstairs that you're welcome to use if you need it."

Her eyes were closed and she took a deep breath. When she opened them, she looked straight at him and brought herself closer to him on the couch. He'd missed her eyes.

"I came to America to escape. My mother was murdered when I was nineteen and I've been investigating her murder ever since. My Father died of alcohol poisoning, he could never accept that she was gone, and finding these people was all the purpose I had left. And I found them. I found the men who took my family from me." She looked away after that. Rick was stunned. He'd known she had a story, but he'd never imagined this. This wasn't his new book. This was real. He found himself reaching for her hand and squeezing it between his. It brought her eyes back to his and she smiled, interlacing their fingers together. He felt his heart stutter in his chest and the need to draw her closer, to keep her safe in his embrace.

"I didn't expect to find a new purpose here, Rick. I didn't expect to find you. And I inadvertently put you in the crosshairs. I came here to lay low. I needed all trace of my Russian identity gone. I needed them to believe I wasn't an issue anymore. But they found me. Last week. And with the time we'd been spending together I was sure they'd get to you too." She took a deep breath as though needing to compose herself.

"I'm right here Kate. They aren't getting to me. And you're safe too." He told her this, his only aim to reassure. He couldn't guarantee anything he was promising, but more than anything he wanted to believe it.

"That was my greatest fear, Rick. That they'd get to you." She looked at him in a way she hadn't since they'd met. So open and trusting. He wanted to be in this woman's life. He would make sure she would stay safe. "You're the only thing I've held on to in a while."

He felt one of her hands let go of his and reach up towards his cheek, gently stroking the pad of her thumb across his jaw. Kate looked from his eyes to his lips and he couldn't hold back any longer. He leaned forward, cupping the back of her head with his right hand and bringing her to him. She complied with no resistance, moving forward of her own accord and sealing her lips to his. He felt his heart rate pick up, his lips tingled with the soft pressure of hers on his and his hands burned to brand her body with his touch. She let out a low moan, her fingers tangling in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, her lips pressing harder against his. He felt her shift on the couch and then her knees were bracketing his lap and it was his turn to groan.

Air soon became a necessity and he slowly pulled away from her, slowing their kiss to small pecks until her could pull back enough to look at her.

"We'll figure it out, Kate." He wasn't sure what exactly he was talking about. Them or their situation but he knew he wanted them to make it. His eyes roamed her face and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again. She looked like she wanted that too.

"I believe you."

* * *

End


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